Peter Parker's Rules of Superhero-ing
by Azaria Serpens
Summary: Now that Peter's pretty sure that Venom doesn't wanna kill him, he needs to set them on the right path. Hopefully the one of righteousness, but Deadpool's here now for some reason, so things might be more difficult than he thought . . .
1. No Killing or Maiming

**Hey, so, when I said I'd already started on a sequel, I really did mean it. By that I mostly mean I don't have the inspiration to write out one of the ideas I've got for other fics, so I just went to this because I was bored. This is mostly just an introductory chapter, so it's pretty short. Hope you like it!**

* * *

**Peter:** _hey, I'm going on patrol tonight if u wanna join me_

**Eddie:**_ Sure, where do you want to meet up?_

**Peter:** _roof of the daily bugle_

**Eddie: **_Okay, see you there._

"Hey, Mary, me 'and V are gonna go out," Eddie says, getting off the couch.

"What? Where are you going, it's, like, 6:00."

"5:47."

"Close enough. Answer my question."

"We're just going out for a walk."

"At night? Whatever, it's your funeral."

"Aw, c'mon, don't be like that. I've got Venom, we'll be fine."

"Okay then, have fun. You need someone to bail you outta jail, I'm just a call away."

"We're just going for a walk, jeez."

"Yeah, sure, totally, got it," Mary says, winking at them.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie mutters, rolling his eyes and walking out the door.

**What does she think we are going to do?**

"I dunno, rob a bank or something."

**Are we?**

"What? No, we're meeting up with Peter, remember."

**You are no fun.**

"Excuse you, I am super fun. Now, come on, let's go."

**Fine.** Venom says, creeping over Eddie's skin.

**. . .**

After texting Eddie, Peter plugs his phone into its charger and climbs out the window, already wearing his Spidey suit. He still wasn't sure this was a good idea, but it wasn't like he could cancel now.

It doesn't take him long to reach the top of the building, so he just sits down and waits, all kinds of scenarios rushing through his mind. What if they didn't show up? What if they tried to hurt someone? What if he couldn't stop them? What if, what if, what if?

All of that grinds to a screeching halt once Venom shows up, leaping from an adjacent rooftop. And while Peter thought he was prepared to see them again, it was really something else to have a hulking, eight-foot tall being with way too many sharp teeth looming over you.

"Hey," he says, his voice pitched higher than he would like.

"**Hello, Spiderling,"** Venom says in their own chilling voice. **"Eddie says to ask how you are doing."**

"Uh, good, I guess? You ready to start?"

"**Ready when you are."**

"Okay. You think you'll be able to keep up."

"**Aw, the Spiderling **_**cares**_**." **Venom says, condescendingly. **"The real question is, will you be able to keep up with us?"**

They suddenly leap off the building and into the night.

Peter just sighs and jumps after them.

**. . .**

It was dark and cold, a typical night in New York. There was also, thankfully, not too many people out either, so it was pretty quiet.

"Gimme all your money, punk!"

Well, except for that. Deadpool glances around, seeing nothing in his immediate vicinity. Closer inspection revealed a mugger threatening some poor guy in an alley with a knife.

"I don't think you wanna be doing that," Wade says, walking up to them.

"Shit, Spider-Man!" the mugger exclaims, dropping his knife.

"Oh for the love of—how many times do I have to go over this, I'm not Spider-man! Do ya see any web patterns on this suit?"

The guy doesn't dignify that with a response, instead starting to run away.

"So we're doing this the hard way, I get it," Wade mutters, taking out one of his guns and aiming for the guy's legs."

"Deadpool! What are you doing?!" a voice yells from above his head.

"What the—Spidey, what're you doing here?'

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Uh, your job, apparently. You let that guy get away."

"No I didn't."

"Yeah ya did, he took off that way," Wade says, pointing down the alley.

"You were gonna _shoot _him!"

"Just in the leg, he would've been fine."

"That's not—y'know what, nevermind, sorry I said anything." He suddenly perks up and jumps down from the wall, a few feet in front of Deadpool. "Hey, stop that, drop him."

The seemingly empty darkness in front of them suddenly shifts to reveal a Colossus sized, slimy, black creature holding the would-be mugger.

"Drop him," Spidey says again, more forcefully.

"**We are not a dog,"** the thing says, glaring.

"Remember our deal? The whole no killing/maiming thing?"

"**Yes, of course,"** it says patronizingly, setting the dazed man down.

"Uh, excuse me, but what the fuck's going on here?" Wade asks, feeling oh so very confused.

Spider-Man and the thing turn to look at him, and suddenly everything clicks into place. "Oh, shit, I'd know that tongue anywhere, it's Venom! Spidey, get behind me, I'll hold them off as long as I can!"

"**Who is this?" **Venom asks, sounding vaguely confused.

"Don't worry about it," Peter mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"**Can we eat him?"**

"No."

Wade narrows his eyes. "Wh—oh, damnit, what universe is this again? Baby Spidey equals MCU, which means Movie-Verse, so that would make you . . . Tom Hardy!"

"What are you going on about?"

"Nothing important, my fine arachnid friend! So what's Venom doing here if not trying to kill you?"

"**The Spiderling is teaching us to be a superhero."**

"Does this mean a team-up? Well, now I'm just offended no one invited me."

"Why would I do that?"

"Can't you just picture it? The wacky adventures of an exasperated hero, trying to teach two unruly anti-heroes morals and how to be good! I can see it already, making up different rules, at least fifteen of 'em!"

"Oh, really? Look, Deadpool, I can't deal with you right now, so if you don't mind, we're gonna leave."

"No, wait, don't go, I'll be good! Scouts honor, promise."

"You're not a scout."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, where we goin' next?"

"What, I never—"

"Pleeease."

Spidey sighs and hangs his head, muttering unintelligible things under his breath. "Fine! Whatever, you can come along. But only if Venom's cool with it."

"**We do not mind. This strange man seems funny."**

"Great! When do we start?"

"Right now. But if you're coming along, we need to set down some ground rules. No killing, or maiming."

"What if it's an accident? These katanas _are_ very sharp."

"No accidents."

"But—"

"But nothing. You coming, or what?"

"Ugh, fine. You're such a buzzkill."

"And you're crazy."

"Guilty as charged! So, what're we doin' first?"

* * *

**Yeah, so, Deadpool's here because I say he is and I can make those decisions. He was originally gonna be in Friendly Neighborhood Venom, but I just couldn't seem to fit him in anywhere. So, this was my solution.**


	2. During Team-Ups, Have Each Other's Back

"Phenethylamine," Peter murmurs. "That's it, I got it!"

"Got what, honey?" May asks, taking a sip of her tea.

"Oh, just a breakthrough on this thing I'm working on for school."

"That's nice. Too bad you have to work on it during the weekend, though."

"Eh, it's not that bad."

"Must be something interesting, then. I'm guessing . . . science?"

"Yeah, more or less."

"Sounds fun, what is it?"

"Just a research project about this chemical, phenethylamine."

"That's an odd name. What is it?"

"It's hard to explain, but it's kinda like a love drug. We produce it naturally, but it's also in chocolate and a few other foods as well. It's basically a mood regulator, and it helps produce endorphins and dopamine."

May nods, feigning understanding. "Interesting."

"Yeah, it is."

"Well, you have fun with that," she says, getting up and putting her mug in the sink. "I'm going to bed, don't stay up too late."

"I won't, good night."

"Good night, love you."

"Love you too."

Peter lets out a breath when May closes the door to her room. He'd have to tell Eddie and Venom that he'd probably just found the solution to their problems. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, which read 9:23, he decides that there was no better time then tonight. Might as well kill two birds with one stone, patrolling with Venom and letting them know what he'd found.

**. . .**

**Peter:** _going on patrol tonight, u wanna join?_

**Eddie: **_Sure, same meeting place?_

**Peter: **_yep_

Peter closes the text app and pauses when he sees Deadpool on his contact list. It had been added rather unsolicitedly, and he wasn't sure why he hadn't just deleted it yet. Probably because Wade was pretty harmless most of the time, and just seemed lonely and wanting to talk with Peter (or, whoever, honestly) about any and every thought that crossed his mind.

Sighing, Peter clicks on Deadpool's contact, and then the little 'Message' icon that appears underneath it.

**Peter: **_hey DP, wanna go on patrol with me and V tonite?_

**Deadpool:**_ OFC, where u wanna meet up?_

**Peter:**_ roof of the daily bugle, be there by 9:45_

**Deadpool: **_k, see u there_

Peter closes the app and turns his phone off before plugging it in. He was already vaguely reconsidering texting both Venom _and_ Deadpool, but it wasn't like he could do anything about it now. Resigning himself to his fate, Peter pulls his mask on and crawls out the window.

**. . .**

Venom is the first to arrive, sitting down and leaning against one of the air conditioning units. It was quiet for the most part, up really high it was just the hum of the AC and the faint sound of cars down below.

Peter gets there a few minutes later, swinging onto the roof and stumbling a bit when he lands.

"**Smooth,"** Venom says, chuckling.

"You try web-slinging and see how easy it is," Peter mutters, sitting down next to them.

"**Are we going to start, or did you call us here just to debate the finer points of your vaguely impractical method of transportation?"**

Peter gasps in mock offence. "Says the guy who _jumps_ from roof to roof. And yes, we're gonna start soon. Just, give it a few minutes."

"**Why? Is the Spiderling tired already?"**

"No. I—look, chill, okay. I don't have to explain myself to you."

"**Ah, yes. Because communication is certainly the downfall of all things. Totally."**

"Oh, can it. You have the time?"

Venom glances at their wrist. **"No. We must have left our watch on our other suit."**

"Wasn't talking to you."

"**The Spiderling has voices too? And here we thought it was just us."**

"No, the AI in my suit, Karen."

"**Fancy. Why do you need to know?"**

"You'll see."

A minute or so of semi-awkward silence passes before Venom says, **"So, Karen. What is she like?"**

Before Peter has the chance to respond, he's cut off when a voice shouts, "Hey! Spidey, Venom, I made it!"

They both turn to see Deadpool walking up to them before putting his hands on his knees and hanging his head, panting. "Sorry it took so long, this building is _really_ tall. But, hey, it's only 9:47, so I'd say I did pretty good."

"**Why is the knockoff Spiderling here?"** Venom asks, sounding more amused that anything.

Deadpool gasps in mock offence. "How dare you, if anything he's a knockoff _me_. I've been doing this whole caped-crusader-nix-the-cape thing for, like, so much longer that him."

"Oh my god," Peter says, hiding his face in his hands. "This was a bad idea."

"What? No, Spidey, don't say that, they started it."

"Yeah, whatever," he mutters, standing up and stretching. "You two need to behave if we're gonna be doing this, so no funny business."

"Sir yes sir," Deadpool says, saluting.

"_**We**_** have no problem with that,"** Venom says, also standing, and looking pointedly at Wade.

He glares at them for a few seconds, before walking up to Peter and slinging an arm around his shoulder. "So, where we goin' first, Spidey?"

"Wherever the crime is," he says, shoving Deadpool away. "Just, try to keep up and don't kill anyone, please."

"Of course, my fine arachnid friend." Wade glances at Venom, who was preparing to jump after Peter, and leaps onto their back shouting, "Piggy back ride!"

**. . .**

"Ugh, this is boooring," Deadpool whines.

"Yeah, well, you're the one who wanted to come along," Peter says, swinging his legs on the edge of the building.

"I thought it would be more fun, like it is in the movies."

"Sorry, but this ain't a movie, pal."

"That's what you say, but I know the truth."

"And that is?"

"Not telling. It would probably break your brain anyways, and this author doesn't really do action scenes."

Peter nods slowly. "Ah, yes. Because all of that _totally_ made sense."

"You're just not on my level."

"I don't think I wanna be."

"Tch, that's what _you_ think. What about you, Venom. Penny for your thoughts."

"**Our thoughts cost more than a penny."**

"Aw, c'mon, V. It's an expression."

"**We are aware."**

"You're no fun," Deadpool pouts.

"**Excuse you, we are super fun. And to answer your question, you are crazy, but we are not any better, so I would say we are pretty much 'on your level' already."**

"Such stirring sentiment," Peter deadpans.

"**Thank you, thank you, we will be here all night,"** Venom snarks back.

"Well I, for one, could not agree with you more," Deadpool says, wrapping his arm around Venom's. "We can start a group! 'People who're fucked up in the head'."

"**Sounds wonderful."**

A minute or so of semi-awkward silence passes before Deadpool looks up at Venom and asks, "So, you come here often?"

"**Yes, this is our favorite brooding spot."**

"Really? I took you more for a church guy."

"**Why?"**

"Dunno. Just a feeling."

"**We were joking, it was a joke. We usually come out here whenever we get hungry,"** Venom says, grinning wider.

Peter sighs, and Karen informs him of a robbery going on via police scanner.

"Yo, guys, we need to get going," Spider-Man says, standing up and stretching.

"Why?" Wade asks. "Your Spidey-Sense tingling?"

"Uh, sure. Let's go with that."

"Great," he says, jumping up. "Lead the way."

**. . .**

They arrive within a minute, hiding themselves on an adjacent rooftop.

"Okay, here's the plan . . ." Peter trails off when he realizes they weren't listening to him.

Venom was already preparing to leap down, but before they could, Deadpool grabs their shoulder and says, "Hey! What's the big idea here?"

Peter feels a relief that soon turns to astonishment when Wade continues, "It's my turn to take down the bad guy!"

"**What makes you say that?" **Venom asks, sounding genuinely confused.

"Uh, you caught the baddie last time, duh. It's my turn now."

"**I was not aware we were operating on a turn-based system."**

"We aren't . . . technically. But I wanna take him down this time," Deadpool whines.

"**Why should you, I thought we were a team, shouldn't it be all together?"**

"Tch, you would say that."

Peter sighs, watching the two of them going at it, and has an almost realization. Children. He was dealing with children. Two adult children, fighting over, well, fighting. He glances at the liquor store, and decides he could stop the robber on his own, so he leaves his two charges arguing on the roof while he swings over to the adjacent store.

**. . .**

"It's my turn goddamn it!" Wade exclaims.

"**There are no turns!"** Venom yells back.

"There are too."

"**Oh, for Pete's sake,"** Venom starts, gesturing to where Peter should've been standing. **"Wait, where is the Spiderling?"**

"What do you mean he's right—shit. Fuck, we lost the minor, he's got no supervision, we're such bad guardians."

"**I was under the impression he was watching us."**

Before Wade could dispute that, there's a gunshot followed by a scream from inside the liquor store.

"**Should we—"**

"Yeah."

They jump down and charge the store, not really worried the weapon the robber had. When they enter, they see Peter sitting behind a shelf, clutching his shoulder. Deadpool and Venom glance at each other, an unspoken conversation passing between them before Wade slides down next to Peter, while Venom rushes the robber.

"Hey Spidey, you okay?"

"Do I look okay?"

"It's just a flesh wound, you'll be fine."

"I'm shot!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, we'll get you patched up after V deals with this guy."

"**All done."** Venom says, holding up the unconscious bad guy.

"Great!" Deadpool says, helping Spider-Man up. He turns to the poor cashier cowering behind the counter and says, "The police'll be here soon, watch that guy." The girl nods and Venom drops the robber next to her.

"Okay, let's get outta here. Little help, Venom?" Wade asks nodding to the top of the building they'd been watching from.

Almost begrudgingly, Venom picks them up and carries them to the roof. After setting them down, Venom retreats under Eddie's skin, re-appearing over his shoulder as just a head.

"**Is the Spiderling okay?"** they ask, sounding more amused than anything.

"Yeah, he'll be fine," Deadpool says.

"Not if you two just _leave_ me here," Peter says, sounding hysterical. "I'll bleed out!"

"It just hit your shoulder, Eddie'll get you some stuff to patch you up and you'll be good to go."

"Uh, when did I become a part of this?"

"Well, I can't just walk into the nearest convenience store in full regalia," Wade says, gesturing to his outfit. "And poor Spidey here definitely shouldn't. So, that leaves you."

"You don't have any first aid stuff?"

"On me, nope. At home, also no. I've got crazy regeneration, I don't need it."

"Jesus Christ," Eddie mutters, shaking his head.

"Uh, anyone wanna ask how _I_ feel about this?"

"Hush, child, the adults are talking."

"I'm more capable than both of you combined!" Peter exclaims, his words falling on deaf ears.

"So, Eddie, you're gonna go buy some stuff. I noticed a CVS nearby."

Eddie sighs. "Fine, but only if you're paying. I don't have my wallet on me."

"And you think I do?"

"Just take me home, I've got stuff there!" Peter says, practically pleading with them at this point.

Deadpool gasps. "Really? Spidey trusts us to know where he lives? I'm so honored!"

Peter grimaces. "On second thought, you can leave me a few blocks away."

"Yeah, not happening, kid," Eddie says. "It'd be irresponsible of us to let an injured minor walk home alone."

"You two are the reason this happened in the first place! That's it, rule number 2, during team-ups, have each other's back. Which means we work _together_ and don't squabble like _children_ over who gets to take down the bad guy."

"**He started it,"** Venom says, nodding to Wade.

"Did not."

"**Did too."**

"This is what I'm talking about!" Peter interjects. "Behave, or I'm calling off the patrols."

They all pause.

"**Fine,"** Venom mutters.

"What he said."

"Good. Now, if you could call me a cab or something, I'd like to be getting home so I don't bleed out on some random rooftop."

"Do you even know what to do for a gunshot wound?" Eddie asks skeptically.

"Not really, but I can just look it up."

"Or," Deadpool starts, "you could let the professionals handle it."

"Yeah, I'm not going to a hospital."

"Not those quacks, me."

"I thought you didn't have any first aid stuff."

"Oh, I don't, but I do know how to use it."

"Really?"

"I'll have you know, I'm former Canadian Special Forces, so I know what I'm talking about."

"Yeah, I'd rather just figure it out myself."

"Aw, c'mon Spidey."

"Where'd you get the supplies?"

"Eddie probably has some stuff at his place."

Eddie, who'd been talking with Venom, perks his head at the mention of his name. "Uh, I've got what at my place?"

"First aid stuff."

"Well, yeah, but I don't think Mary would much like it if all of us barged in there."

"Mary is . . ?"

"My sister."

"Shouldn't she be asleep?"

"Probably, but that doesn't mean she is."

"Well, then you can just sneak in there and get the stuff, then meet us outside."

"Or you could just take me home and let me deal with this?" Peter suggests.

"Nope, like you said, this is our fault, so we must take responsibility."

Peter sighs, vaguely regretting trying to instill a sense of morality in two villains. It only really seemed to cause him problems. Then again, it might've been worse if they hadn't been there to help him after he got shot, so . . .

"Well, who says I want you knowing where I live either," Eddie says, crossing his arms.

"What, you think I'm gonna kidnap your sister or something? That's not really my shtick, so unless she's some kinda evil, you don't gotta worry."

"How comforting," he deadpans.

"Look, just get the stuff and meet us back here. Shouldn't take you more than a couple minutes."

Eddie groans. "Fine. If I'm not back soon, it means Mary kicked my ass for being out so late." And with that, Venom creeps over Eddie's skin and they leap off into the night.

Deadpool sits down next to Peter, whistling a random tune.

"I'm still mad at you," he mutters.

"You'll be fine," Wade repeats, sounding a little more subdued than normal.

"You keep saying that."

" 'Cause it's true. You've got a healing factor too, right?"

"Yeah, but it's not as impressive as yours."

"Eh, my point still stands. Just give it a few days."

"Says you. You're not the guy that has to walk around school with a gunshot wound. I probably can't write with my right hand, so that's just wonderful."

"Aw, poor little Spidey."

" 'M not little."

"Says the kid still going to school."

"It's college," Peter says, and it isn't exactly a lie. He may take college classes, but he's still in high school.

"Hm, you're a good fighter, but a crap liar. 'Sides, I'd recognize teenage whining anywhere. I'd say you and Negasonic would get along, but you're more fresh-faced and naive than her, so maybe not. Although, you do remind me a bit of Yukio, so maybe I'm wrong. I'm probably wrong."

"They friends of yours?" Peter asks, going with the flow of the new conversation.

"You could say that. I'm more like the charming pest that bugs them whenever I get a new movie."

"You're not a pest."

"Aw, thanks for that Spidey. Your kindness truly knows no bounds."

"**We are back," **Venom says, landing on the building and setting down a plastic case.

"Great! Then I'll patch Spidey up and call Dopinder so he can be on his way."

"Who's Dopinder?" Peter and Eddie ask simultaneously.

"Jinx," Peter says, mostly out of habit than anything else.

"Y'ain't gettin' a soda from me, kid."

"Dopinder's a cabbie friend of mine. You can get a free ride, and he takes the privacy of his customers very seriously, so you can keep your secret apartment to yourself."

"He gives out free rides?"

"Superhero discount," Wade says cryptically.

"Uh-huh," Peter says slowly. "Normally I'd pry, but right now I'd rather just not _bleed to death_. So, if you could fix me up, I'll be on my way."

"M'kay. Eddie can call Dopinder," Deadpool says, tossing his phone to Eddie and opening the plastic first aid kit.

"Uh, what?" Eddie asks, fumbling with the phone.

"It's not locked, just look under my contacts."

"But . . ."

"I'm kinda busy here."

Reluctantly, Eddie opens Wade's phone and scrolls through his contact list, which was small, but colorful with the many varying names and emojis spread throughout. He quickly finds one that says 'Dopinder' with two taxi cab emojis flanking it. Steeling himself, Eddie clicks the contact and then the little 'Call' icon that appears underneath it.

"_Mr. Pool?" _Dopinder asks with a yawn. _"Why are you calling this late?"_

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were asleep."

"_Who is this?"_

"Uh, Deadpool?"

"_No, it's not. How did you get his phone?"_

"He gave it to me."

"_Then let me talk to him."_

"It's for you," Eddie says, holding the phone up to Wade's ear.

"Oh, come on. Dopinder, just get here soon."

"_Sorry, Mr. Pool, right away. Uh, where are you exactly?"_

"I dunno. Eddie, find some street signs."

"We're at (address)," Peter says through gritted teeth, the adrenaline finally wearing off.

"_I'll be right there."_

"Just avoid the cop cars and you'll be fine," Deadpool says, just before the call cuts out.

**. . .**

It was only after the madness was over, and Peter was safe at home, that he realized he'd forgotten to tell Venom and Eddie that he'd found a way to help them. And with his shoulder out of commission for the next week-ish, he wouldn't have another time to tell them for a while.

Peter glances at his phone and considers calling them, but decides against it. The explanation was just a little too complex to convey over a single call. He'd just have to wait until he was healed enough to go back out as Spider-Man again.


	3. Post-Patrol Food is a Must

There were a few things Peter wasn't expecting to see when he got home from school. Not that he was actively thinking about it or anything, it was just a something in the back of his mind. One of those things he wasn't expecting was a celebrity to be there. Because, y'know, why would that happen? And yet, when he walked through the door, lo and behold there was one Anthony Stark, sitting at his kitchen table.

Peter was, understandably, shocked. This was an uncommon occurrence, though it had happened before. Just not enough for him to get used to the idea of a billionaire breaking into his apartment.

"Hey, Pete, you're home," Tony says, getting up and walking over to him. "We need to talk."

This was decidedly one of the worst things anyone could hear from another person, especially if that other person happened to be Tony Stark.

"About what?" Peter asks, trying to stay calm. What if he'd found out about Venom and Deadpool? What if he thought Peter was being too irresponsible again and took his suit?

"Uh, about what happened last night. Or do you not remember?" Tony asks, lightly pressing against his gunshot wound.

Peter winces. "Oh, that," he says, relaxing his shoulders.

"Well don't sound so relieved. What, you doing something illegal behind my back?"

"No." He just hung out with people who probably did.

"I'm joking. So, you doing okay after, y'know, getting shot and everything?"

"As well as you'd expect."

"Can't argue with that. Did you at least have someone check it out? You don't want that kinda thing getting infected."

"Uh, well . . ." Peter trails off, not exactly sure how to explain without telling Tony everything.

"You did, right? C'mon, Pete, I know you're smarter than that."

"I did, I just didn't go to a hospital or anything."

"Ah, yes. Because why would you do something _sane_ like that?"

"I was in my suit! And I couldn't exactly go in as Peter Parker 'cause the cops would've gotten involved."

"Uh, you do have a phone, right? And Karen? You could've called me or Happy."

"I . . . didn't think about that," Peter says, and he really hadn't. Mostly because he was too busy trying to deal with Eddie and Wade, who ended up helping him anyway. "How'd you even find out about this?"

"You say that like you don't think I've got sensors in that suit that tell me if you get injured. And I would've been down sooner if _someone_ hadn't decided it wasn't important to tell me you'd gotten shot."

Peter's pretty sure he was talking about F.R.I.D.A.Y. when he said 'someone', but it could also be Karen he meant, so it was probably be best not to linger on it.

"Well, I am fine, really. It still hurts, but I'll probably be okay in about a week."

"You sure? Gunshot wounds take a while to heal."

"For normal people, but I've got that nifty healing factor, remember?"

"True, but you should still get that checked out. I can set up a confidential doctor's appointment for you."

"Is that really necessary?"

"Do you wanna lose your arm?"

"What?! No, why would I?"

"Infection. So, I'll get that set up to keep both mine and your aunt's peace of mind." Tony pauses. "She . . . does know about this, right?"

Peter looks away sheepishly. "No . . ."

Tony sighs. "Y'know what, it's probably for the best anyways. If she asks why it hurts, just say you sprained your shoulder web slinging or something, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good." Tony says, nodding his head. "You sure you're doing okay?"

"Yep, right as rain."

"Great! If that's all, I'll be going," Tony says, walking over and opening the door. "Someone'll call and let you know when the appointment is, so don't miss it, 'kay? Bye."

With that, the door closes, leaving Peter alone once again. And as per usual after spending any amount of time with Tony Stark, he was left with the distinct feeling that a small hurricane had just barreled right through his life without actually damaging anything. It was odd, and not something he particularly liked, but it was certainly unique.

Shaking his head, Peter sets his backpack down carefully and sits on the couch, also carefully, because jarring his wound by carelessly flopping down was not a mistake he'd make twice. He was at least happy that Tony didn't know about Venom and Deadpool, so he probably didn't have to worry about that. Bless Ned for hacking his Spider-suit and disabling the Baby Monitor Protocol so many times that Tony eventually just took it out entirely.

That was one less thing to worry about, for the most part, although there was still the issue of Eddie and Wade themselves. It was difficult to determine the success of rehabilitating two villains, though they both seemed willing. Except Venom, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it. Maybe Deadpool could help reign him in, although pitting them against each other would probably just make everything worse.

Sighing, Peter gets up and decides he could think that all over later. Right now, he just wanted something to eat.

**. . .**

**Eddie. Eddie, wake up. Eddie!**

"Hm? Wha's goin' on?"

**Someone's calling you.**

"Who?"

**Not sure. You should answer it.**

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie mutters, reaching blindly out for his phone. "It's Peter. Why's he callin' so early?"

**It's nine.**

"It's the weekend," Eddie says, answering the call and sitting up. "Wha'd'ya want, kid?"

"_Eddie! You answered, great. Uh, would you mind—Ah!—maybe coming and helping me with something?"_

"Depends. What do you need help with?"

"_Oh, just a supervillain. Nothing too big."_

"Then why do you need our help? Did the little Spiderling bite off more than he could chew?"

"_That's not . . . well . . . maybe a little. Just—get down here, please?"_

"Fine. Where are you?"

"_Not sure, just follow the screams. Ooh, call Deadpool too."_

"I don't have his number."

"_I'll have Karen text you. Okay? Bye."_

"Bye," Eddie says, just as the call ends. A few seconds later he gets a text "Here goes nothing," he mutters, clicking the number.

"_You've reached Deadpool, mercenary extraordinaire, who's this and what do you need me to do?"_

"Hey Deadpool, it's Eddie."

"_Eddie? Why're you calling? You don't need me to do a job for you, do ya?"_

"No, Peter called and said he needed our help."

"_Oh, is this about what's goin' on downtown?"_

"Uh, I guess. He said to get there immediately."

"_Doesn't he know what time it is?"_

"Maybe. We should probably go humour him, though."

"_Eh, sure, why not. Wasn't plannin' on doing anything else anyways."_

"Okay then. See ya there."

"_Yep."_

The call ends and Eddie sighs, running a hand over his face.

**Are we going to go?**

" 'Course we are. Is Mary up yet?"

**Not that I am aware of.**

"Good, that means no questions."

**She does not always ask them.**

"It's often enough," Eddie says, standing and stretching.

**I suppose. Why do you think the Spiderling went to us and not his Avenger friends?**

"Dunno. Maybe they're busy saving the world. Again."

**Perhaps. Maybe we are more fun than they are?**

"Ah, yes. A mercenary and a journalist with an alien living in them. Such great company."

**We can sense your sarcasm.**

"Wasn't trying to hide it."

**Well, we are certainly more colorful than them.**

"You say this like you know them personally."

**Do not have to. It's rather obvious.**

"Whatever you say. Ready to go?"

"**Yes," **Venom says, creeping over his skin.

**. . .**

"I _hate_ technology," Deadpool says emphatically, lying down on the rooftop.

"Complaining about it won't stop bad guys from using it," Peter replies, also lying down.

"Then I'll just get a giant EMP and take it all out."

"You do that and you'll take the world down with it," Eddie points out, sitting down.

"Pff, who cares about that."

"Everyone."

"Yeah, yeah, I know,"

"**Besides, technology is fun. We enjoy it."**

"I'm with them on this," Peter says. "Technology is pretty nice."

"Sometimes."

"Most of the time."

"Agree to disagree. So, Spidey, did you just need us to help you, or do you got somethin' else planned."

"I'm pretty beat. Maybe we should just get some food."

"Sure, as long as one of you two has some money, 'cause I'm all out."

Peter and Wade both look to Eddie.

"Yeah, no," he says, shaking his head. "V already eats through most of my budget, I'm not using the measly remainder on two superpowered people who likely need more food than the average human. I'd be willing to pool our money, but that's it."

Peter sighs. "I've got some at home, but it's not much. Wade, I know you're lying. You've got some emergency stash somewhere."

"Well, yeah, of course, but it's for emergencies only. We can just go somewhere cheap."

"I wasn't plannin' on shilling out more than $20, $30 if I have to. So, what kinda food do ya feel like?"

"**People,"** Venom says, almost wistfully.

"Oh, that reminds me, I need to talk to you two later. I think I found a solution to your problem."

"Really? That's great."

"What problem?" Deadpool asks, feeling out of the loop.

"Oh, y'know. Their whole . . ." Peter trails off, gesturing vaguely.

"Cannibalism thing?" Wade guesses.

"Yeah. That."

"No need to be so derisive about it. It's not like we had a choice."

"Anyway," Peter says loudly. "We were deciding where to eat."

"Ooh, right. I'm thinkin' Mexican." Deadpool pauses. "Really, Mexican?" he mutters. "Oh, yeah, of course. Chimichangas, yay."

"What was that?" Peter asks, confused.

"Nothing. Just another _uncreative writer_ here. I like other foods, y'know."

(_Hush, it's for the narrative_)

"Ugh, fine."

"O-kay," Peter says slowly. "Well, I kinda wanted Asian food. Like, Chinese, or Indian, or something. What about you, Eddie?"

"I'm fine with either."

"C'mon, dude. You're the deciding vote, just pick one."

Eddie pauses and considers this for a moment. "Well, actually I kinda want Greek food."

Peter and Wade groan.

"You were the chosen one," Deadpool says weakly.

"It was said you would destroy the Sith, not join them," Peter continues, half-heartedly.

"Stop being so dramatic."

"The day that happens is the day I die," Wade says defiantly. "And, well, that ain't happening any time soon. Unless you got another planet hangin' around somewhere, but I doubt it."

"Couldn't we all just get the food we want?" Peter asks.

"Not unless you feel like runnin' all around town, and then two of us will have cold food," Eddie points out.

"Then we need to come to an agreement. I say we have Asian food because I'm the unofficial official leader here."

"You're twelve," Eddie and Wade say simultaneously.

"Sixteen. You have a better idea?"

"Well, I'm the oldest," Eddie says.

"You sure about that?" Deadpool asks.

"How old are you."

"A lady never tells."

"You guys sound like you're in second grade. 'I'm the oldest so you should do what I want'."

"Says the minor," Eddie scoffs. "You just don't wanna have to go along with one of us."

"I'm the one who sets all this up, I should get to pick."

"**We could always just—"**

"You're not the one paying."

"I said I'd help with some of it, it's Wade who's not pitching in."

"Whoa, don't bring that up. It's not my fault business has been slow."

"**How about we—"**

"That's no excuse."

"What, do you want me to get a _real_ job?"

"Would be nice, mercenary work isn't all that good if you wanna be a better person."

"**You know—"**

"What if I don't want to be a better person."

"Then you wouldn't be here."

"You didn't give _us_ much of a choice," Eddie mutters.

"**Everyone shut up!" **Venom exclaims.

Startled, Peter and Wade stop talking and look at Eddie.

"**Thank you. How about, instead of needless fighting, we go to one of those mall places that has the food courts."**

"New York doesn't have malls," Peter points out.

"**Then what are those things called, the open-air-ish places with the different stores. There was this one Eddie looked at a few weeks ago, Smorgasburg, or something like that."**

"That's . . . not a bad idea," Wade admits.

"**There we go, compromise. I suppose those tourist websites were not a total loss."**

"No perhaps not," Eddie says. "And I'd say we definitely deserve a break."

"Then let's get going," Peter says, standing up. "And I can talk with you two about how to fix your, uh, issue."

"Thanks, I hadn't realized we'd suddenly become chronically ill."

"You know what I mean."

**. . .**

"So, the magical secret is this phena-something or other chemical?" Eddie says, taking a bite of his gyro.

"Yep, far as I can tell. It's something we produce naturally, and it's also found in chocolate. I've already looked into getting you guys some pills or supplements or something, I just need to talk with . . . _someone_ who can help me make it."

"I take it this 'someone' is a part of the Avengers?"

"Er, yeah. I won't tell them any of the details, but I do need their help."

"Can you really convince them?"

"I'll cook something up, they probably won't question me too much."

"As long as you can get it without too much trouble."

"Yep. I'll probably have something in a few days, and we'll have to figure out a proper dosage. Shouldn't take more than a week-ish."

"Well, that's all well and good, but what are those two supposed to do in the meantime?" Deadpool asks.

Peter glances at Eddie.

"We'll be fine," he says quickly.

**You know that's a lie.**

"I promise," Eddie continues, ignoring Venom.

"Good. I'll let you know when we can start figuring out dosage. I'm gonna have to do some tests, though. Or at least some kind of experiment, so I might need you to sneak into a lab with me."

"I thought you were Mr. Morality? That sounds just a little illegal."

"Eh, more like I neglect to tell someone the exact details of why I need to use their lab, or, more likely, we sneak into the one at my school after hours."

"Sounds pretty sketchy, but I've never been one to back down from stuff like that. As long as V doesn't mind going through all that, you got yourself a deal."

**We will be fine. The Spiderling has proven himself mostly trustworthy.**

"And they've given their okay, so we're good. Just shoot a text when you need us."

"Will do," Peter says, finishing off his food. "Y'know, we should totally do this again. Not all the time, of course, but sometimes. Rule number three, post-patrol food is a must."

"We're gonna have to start writing all these rules down," Wade says.

"Nah, I've got it all up here," Peter says, pointing to his head. "Now, if you're gonna be paying, then I'm gonna hit the road. I've still got things I gotta do, this Saturday ain't gonna waste itself."

"Yeah, go on and play video games or whatever it is you kids do these days."

"You got it, see ya later," Peter says, walking away.

A few minutes of amicable silence pass between the remaining beings, before Wade says, "So, are you two really gonna be okay for the next week?"

"Of course. Why would you ask?"

"Because I've been in this business for a long time, and I can tell you're lying. I'm guessing you've been skimming a bit off the top, so to speak, and not telling Spidey."

"You could say that. You gonna do anything about it?"

"No. But I know someone who wouldn't be too happy if he found out about it."

"He can't know, and we're gonna stop after we figure out this whole thing. It's just . . . we had to."

"Yeah, and I get that. But a web of lies is an awful thing to get caught in."

"You speaking from experience?"

"You could say that. All I'm gonna tell you is be careful."

"We have been."

"That's good. And with that outta the way, I shall bid the both of you adieu," Wade says, getting up.

"Okay then, see ya later. And, please, don't say anything to the kid."

"I won't. It's your lie to get tripped up on."

"Thanks for the support."

"Anytime."


	4. Civilians are Top Priority

**Wow, would you look at that, an update! Sorry it's been so long, but this chapter really just . . . IDK, man, but it took way too long to finish. Hope you all like it!**

* * *

It was the first Sunday of a new month and Peter was feeling nervous. Along with everything that happened yesterday, he now had to somehow ask Tony about helping Venom without actually talking about Venom. He was pretty sure that what he was asking wouldn't be too big a deal, considering phenylethylamine pills already existed, just not at the dosages he was sure Venom would need, but there was still the issue of actually asking.

This made the car ride with Happy awkward, because he was much too busy worrying about what to do that any conversation was essentially impossible. Because of this, Peter felt guiltily happy when they finally got to the Avengers Compound, waving an awkward goodbye before heading inside.

After Tony sold Stark (Avengers) Tower, they'd had to relocate their twice a month meetings, which wasn't too bad except for the longer drive. They were supposed to be times to touch base and offer input on improvements for the Spider-Suit, but eventually just morphed into glorified hang-out sessions where they talked about science, and, occasionally non-science, stuff.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter calls out, looking into the labs as he walked through the halls.

"In here," Tony says from somewhere ahead of him.

Peter hurries forward and walks into the lab, seeing Tony staring at a hologram in front of him.

"What'cha working on?" he asks, pulling up a chair.

"Nothing," Tony says, swiping the image away. "Just looking at some suit specs."

"Oh, cool."

"Not really, I was just bored. So, how's school going?"

"Really good actually, I passed my biology test, but my English grade is slipping a bit, so I'm gonna have to—"

"Whoa, kid, I didn't ask for your whole life story."

"Heh, sorry about that. Uh, like I said, it's all good."

"Great, great. So, what'cha got to talk about? Like I said, I'm bored, so make it good."

"Oh. Well, I've got this . . ." _Nuisance_. "Friend. And, they need, um . . ." _Therapy and a cease and desist order_. "Some special pills to help with a . . ." _Murder problem_. "Chemical deficiency."

"O-kay," Tony says slowly. "And you're telling me this because . . ?"

"Uh . . . they can't get these pills anymore because . . . they can't afford them."

Tony sighs. "Do ya want me to buy them for your 'friend'? Who are they, by the way, and what are these pills?"

"Oh, it's just someone from school, you've never met them. And it's phenylethylamine pills. And, no, I don't need you to buy them, I just need help making them."

Tony raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Uh-huh. And why, pray tell, do you need to _make_ them"

"Well, they have a really severe deficiency, so the regular pills won't work because they need more than what's in 'em. And they're also really broke."

Tony sighs again. "Well, I haven't messed with chemistry in a while, so why not. Variety is the spice of life."

"Really?" Peter asks, disbelievingly.

"Did you - _want_ \- me to say no?" Tony asks haltingly.

"What? No, sorry. Uh, how about we get started on this."

"Okay. First question, about how much of this phena-what's it chemical do we need?"

"Um, according to them, about the amount one or two people produce naturally."

"Really? How severely deficient are they?"

"A lot, apparently. So, how soon can we get this done?"

"Well, I don't technically have the materials to make it today, so we'll mostly just be speculating right now. I can order the stuff we'll need, and you can come in again later this week. If you're free, that is."

"I should be available."

"That's good. Now, back to speculation."

**. . .**

It had been a nice Tuesday so far, and Eddie and Venom were looking forward to enjoying the remainder of their day, having finished all their work. Mary was lounging on the chair next to them, watching Netflix and scrolling through her phone.

The peaceful atmosphere was soon broken by a loud knock at the door.

"Ugh," Mary groans. "You expecting anyone?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Probably just some salesman," she mutters.

There's another knock.

They glance at each other.

"Not it!" they say at the same time.

"**You are both children."**

"Am not," Eddie mutters, standing up. "I'll get it," he says, walking over and looking through the peephole. "Ah, crap."

"**Why is the Spider—"**

"Shh," Eddie says, opening the door and stepping outside. "What are you doing here?" he hisses, closing the door and facing Peter.

"Delivering these," he says, holding up a pill bottle. "You could be a little more grateful."

"You can't be here. How do you even know where I live anyway?"

"That's not important," he says sheepishly. "Look, I got the pills, and I left you instructions on the bottle. If you have any questions, just call me. They're still in the experimental stage, so be careful."

"We will," Eddie says, taking the pills. "And no more house calls. Mary can't know about you."

"Okay, fine. See ya later," he says, walking away.

"Yeah, see ya later. And, Peter?"

"What?"

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Eddie opens the door and goes back inside, slipping the pills in his pocket.

"Who was it?"

"You were right, just some salesman. I dealt with him."

"My knight in shining PJ's," Mary deadpans.

"Anything for you," he says, taking an exaggerated bow before walking into the kitchen.

**Do you think the Spiderling's pills will work?**

"Won't know until we try," Eddie says, getting a glass of water and walking to the bathroom. "Okay, let's get a look at these so-called 'instructions."

On the side were a few handwritten, bulleted guidelines written in sharpie.

"He needs to clean up his writing," Eddie mutters, squinting. "I feel like I got this from an actual doctor."

After almost a minute of squinting, deliberation, and unnecessary input on Venom's part, he makes out what the list says:

Don't take more than four a day. (Seriously, I don't know what might happen)

Take at least one or two a day, with food, more if needed. (We're trying to find the proper dosage)

Keep track of how many you take and when you take them. (Preferably written somewhere, try the note app on your phone)

Do NOT let anyone else take these

Talk with Venom and treat the pills as though they are food, taking one when you're hungry. (ONLY when you're hungry)

"Well, he certainly didn't really leave anything out."

"**It would seem so. Can we try them now?"**

"Sure, we just need to get a snack 'cause we have to take it with food."

"**I think we still have some pretzels left."**

"That'll do. I just hope this stuff works."

**. . .**

**Wade:**_ can we go on patrol today?_

**Peter: **_sure, what time?_

**Wade: **_6:45_

**Peter: **_see u there_

"Hey, Eddie! Are you finished packing yet?"

He glances at the mostly empty boxes and suitcase in front of him. "Uh, well, it's coming along," he says, wincing.

"Help me with the kitchen when you're done," Mary says, walking out of her room.

"Um," Eddie starts, getting off the couch. "Actually, me and Venom need to go out tonight."

She turns and gives them a dubious look. "Uh-huh. This wouldn't be to get out of packing, would it?"

"What? No, of course not."

Mary raises an eyebrow. "Fine, whatever. But you're helping me with the dishes when you get back," she says, going into the living room and dramatically collapsing on the couch.

"No problem," Eddie says, walking out of the apartment.

**. . .**

The Daily Bugle had, over the last couple weeks, become their unofficial official meeting place for whenever they all went out on patrol. It was mostly an accident, but if asked, Peter would claim it was on purpose all along. If you asked what purpose, however, he'd cleverly redirect the question with something like, "Oh, look at that cool bird," and hope you'd forget what it was you asked in the first place.

Regardless, it was nice to have a set place, because it really made everything easier. As long as everyone showed up on time, at least.

Peter taps his foot impatiently, glancing at the clock in the top left corner of his screen. "Karen, how late do you think they'll be this time?"

"At least two more minutes."

"I say five."

"Let's compromise and go with three."

"You're too lenient."

"You're too cynical."

"I have every right, they're supervillains."

"Anti-heroes."

Peter gasps in mock offence. "Did Ned teach you that?"

"Maybe."

"Never letting you two talk again," he mutters, sitting down.

About three minutes later, they show up.

"Told you," Karen says, almost smugly.

Peter ignores her and puts his hands on his hips. "What took you guys so long?"

"Traffic," Wade says confidently.

"**Yeah, traffic."**

"Neither of you have cars."

Deadpool opens his mouth to says something, but pauses. "Yeah, well . . . neither do you."

"I wasn't the one making up excuses. You both need to start showing up on time."

"We're only a few minutes late."

"You were the one who called this in the first place."

"I don't have a watch."

"They're not all that expensive."

"**Are you two going to stay here and bicker, or are we going on patrol?"**

Peter pauses. "We'll talk about this later," he promises.

"Fine by me."

**. . .**

Venom had a really good sense of smell. And hearing. And, well, just better senses in general (including common sense, but Eddie refuses to believe it). It's all a part of being a Superior Being, at least when compared to humans, with their cute limited vision and general obliviousness.

Enhanced senses are also great when you're out fighting crime.

For example, when they hear the shout of some poor lady saying that her purse has just been snatched.

"**Follow me," **Venom says, quickly changing direction and heading toward Central Park.

They soon locate someone quickly biking away, the woman's purse clutched against their handlebars. Ignoring the loose crowd of people between them and the thief, Venom barrels right through, tackling the cyclist when they catch up.

Peter appears a few seconds later, followed by Deadpool and Venom proudly holds up the guy they just caught.

"**Look what we found,"** they say, grinning.

Peter's eye-lens-things squint, and Venom gets the impression he's upset at them.

"What the heck was that!" he exclaims, definitely mad at them.

"I'll just go return this," Deadpool says quietly, picking up the stolen purse and running off to where the thief had been fleeing from.

"**Did you really just say 'heck'?"**

"I—well, yeah. But that's not the point, what do you think you're doing."

"**Stopping crime,"** Venom says, lowering the terrified cyclist to the ground.

Peter webs his wrists together and glares at Venom. "Yeah, I know. I meant what you did there," he says, gesturing to the crowd of people Venom had barreled through, some lying on the ground, dazed.

"**It was faster."**

"It was faster, really? You look—you look me in the eye and tell me you can't _easily_ outrun some guy on a bicycle."

"**We cannot,"** they say, seemingly serious.

Peter stares at them for a few seconds. "Okay, you're good, but I know you're lying. You totally can."

"**Perhaps."**

"Perhaps nothing!"

"Oh, you guys are still fighting," Wade says, walking up to them. "I'll just—" he carefully steps around them and helps the attempted thief up before walking over to the officer taking the woman's statement a few yards away.

Peter sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look, I'm not 100% sure why you both do this, and frankly I'm not sure I wanna know, but if you're gonna be helping me, you have to follow the rules."

"**There's no rule against running through crowds."**

"Fine, rule 5, civilians are top priority. Which means _running around_ whatever crowds of people happen to be between you and the bad guys."

"**No one got hurt,"** Venom mutters.

"This time. Just, be careful, okay? It shouldn't be that hard."

"**You are no fun,"** they say, sounding more humorous than bitter.

"Yeah, I've heard it all before. 'That Peter, what a buzzkill, trying to keep everyone safe all the time, he sucks'."

"Peter?" Deadpool says, walking back up to them.

Peter takes in a sharp breath and Venom hides their mouth behind their hand, trying to stifle their chuckles.

"Shit," Peter says under his breath.

"Whoa, kid, you don't gotta worry about anything, I'm not the kinda guy to go 'round revealing secret identities. That's just rude."

"Thanks," Peter mutters, and Venom bursts out laughing.

"No problem. Anyways, do you guys wanna go back to my apartment? I got some leftover food I need to get through before it goes bad and I could use some help."

It's a bit desperate, a little pleading, but Peter gets the feeling that Wade had been lonely, or having a bad day and that's why he called the patrol.

"Sure," Peter says, mostly against his and Tony's and May's will. If he was being honest, it was partly because he felt bad for Wade. The other part was mostly just because, hey, why not. He was hungry, and if something happened (not that he was really expecting anything) he was pretty sure he'd be fine.

"**We will go too,"** Venom declares. **"Of course, you do,"** they say, mostly under their breath, and probably to Eddie. **"Eddie says yes too."**

"Great! Follow me."

They start headed to Wade's apartment and, not for the first time, Peter wonders just how much hanging out with those two had affected him.

**. . .**

"Well, here we are," Wade says, opening the door. "Make yourself at home, I'll go get the food."

Peter and Eddie walk inside, looking around the room. It was messy, but in a neat kinda way. Everything had its place, and if that place happened to be the floor, then well, that's where it was. They both noticed the various weapons strewn about. Peter didn't even want to think about how many were being improperly stored, guns without the safety on and knives unsheathed.

(None of them were, of course. Wade was a professional, not some weekend amateur)

"Nice place," Peter says, sitting on the couch. He wasn't really lying either. There was a sort of charm wrapped up with the messiness and underlying smell of takeout. Although he could probably be better with his garbage, Peter notes, seeing the various pieces of trash strewn about. You want ants, 'cause that's how you get ants.

"Yeah, sorry about the mess. I wasn't really expecting company. You guys want it cold, or should I heat it up in the microwave?"

"Depends," Eddie says. "What do you got?"

"Uh, some Chinese, orange chicken and rice. Few slices of pizza, cheese and pineapple and olive. And, uh, Thai food."

"Did you say pineapple and olive?" Peter asks.

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you're one of those people who gets all up in arms about pineapple on pizza, because I really don't wanna hear all that again."

"No, no, I was just making sure I heard you correctly. It's . . . an odd combination."

"Yeah, well, I got cheese too if you don't wanna try it."

"**I want to try it."**

"Sweet. I'll just throw everything in the microwave, this stuff's never really good cold anyway."

Peter pauses, and glances over at the kitchen, where Wade was carefully piling the leftover food into the microwave.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?" he asks, getting off the couch and walking over.

"Uh, heating everything up."

"At the same time?"

Wade glances at the microwave. "No . . ."

"You're gonna burn the place down!" he exclaims, nudging Wade away and taking everything out.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Wade mutters, backing up.

Peter turns and _stares_ at him. "I—y'know what, out. Out of the kitchen." He makes a shooing motion with his hands and Wade gives him a puzzled look (that Peter didn't see because of the mask, but he had the distinct feeling that's the face Wade made) and walks into his living room.

Eddie glances at him and pulls his legs up so his knees were bent, and Wade sits in the empty space on the couch.

"I think I just got kicked out of my kitchen by a twelve-year-old," he says, almost confusedly.

"Sixteen," Peter says tiredly, with the kind of resignation of someone who'd had the same thing happen to them many times before.

"It's my kitchen, you know."

"Not if you use it irresponsibly."

"Did you just claim ownership of _my_ kitchen?"

Peter pauses. "Temporarily."

"Oh, yeah, 'cause that makes it better," he mutters, slumping into the couch.

"Don't worry about it," Eddie says. "He's got a tendency to control things, you get used to it."

"It's not like I don't know how to use a microwave, I've heat up takeout before."

"Not all at once though," Eddie points out. "Mary almost killed us after Venom convinced me to try because they were just _so_ hungry they couldn't wait."

"**You are the one who was so easily persuaded."**

"It was your idea in the first place."

"It was both your faults," Peter says, setting the timer on the microwave. He glances around the small kitchen. If there was one thing that May had drilled into him, it was that a clean kitchen is the best kitchen. And looking around Wade's, he was surprised he didn't see any cockroaches. Not that it was _really_ bad, but there were crumbs everywhere and it doesn't take much for cockroaches to appear.

Maybe if he could . . . "Hey, Wade?"

"What?"

"Do you have any paper towels?"

"Uh . . . no. But there should be some napkins in one of the cupboards."

Peter starts looking and soon finds what he's looking for, in the form of takeout napkins more-or-less neatly kept in stacks.

"Oh." Well, they would certainly work. He carefully takes out two napkins and starts sweeping the crumbs with one onto the other.

When he's done, he carefully folds it up and puts it in the trash can he'd noticed by the fridge. A picture catches his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he turns to look at it.

It showed Deadpool and a few other people standing in front of a large house. Peter only recognized two of the people, Wade, of course, and Dopinder.

His mind drifts to a conversation they'd had about two weeks ago. Deadpool had mentioned two of his friends, Negasonic and Yukio. He was guessing they were the two girls about his age, since he had mentioned they were teenagers. Glancing over at Eddie, Venom, and Deadpool, who were idly chatting, he wonders if he should ask about the other people in the photo.

Briefly interrupted by the timer dinging, he hurries over and takes the food out and puts the rest in.

After a few more seconds of deliberation, curiosity wins and he takes the picture off the fridge, grabs the food, and walks over.

Eddie and Wade gratefully grab the offered takeout, and Peter nudges Eddies legs off the couch so he could sit down.

Wade notices the picture in his hand and asks, "Why do you have that?"

"I wanted to ask you who was in it. That's you, obviously," he says, pointing at the at the mini grinning Deadpool. "And that's Dopinder," he moves his finger to the smiling man on Wade's right. "And I'm guessing that's Negasonic and Yukio," he points to the two girls on his left.

"How do you know about them?"

"You mentioned them to me a couple weeks ago, after I got shot."

"I did?" he says quietly, mostly to himself.

"Yep."

Eddie pauses from eating and points at the two on the far left. "Who're they?"

"That's Cable and Colossus. Cable's the one scowling and being all anti-social, and Colossus is the grinning metal guy. Those other two on the right are Russel and Domino."

"Cool," Eddie says, nodding. "So, are they who you hang out with when you're not with us?"

Wade pauses, his face unreadable because of the mask. "_Well_, I wouldn't put it like _that_ exactly, but kinda, yeah. Though we haven't talked in . . . oh, a little under a month. At least me and Colossus haven't, the others are better at keeping in touch."

"Did something happen?" Peter asks, genuinely curious.

Wade shifts uncomfortably. "Oh, nothing too big. Just another . . ." He says the last few words so quietly even Peter and Eddie's superior hearing couldn't catch it.

"Another what?"

Wade gestures vaguely. "Rehash of an old argument. 'Deadpool, you shouldn't kill people'." he mocks with a bad Russian accent. "Got the whole speech twice in a day, that's gotta be a record. Kicked me outta the mansion and said to not come back until I'd learned some manners, or something like that."

"Have you?" Peter asks hesitantly.

"You've seen me when I eat. Pfft, manners, never heard of 'em."

"You know what I mean," he says, nudging Wade with his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah. I suppose I can reluctantly say that you _might_ be a _somewhat_ good influence on me."

"Wow," Peter deadpans. "I feel so accomplished."

"Aw, c'mon, don't be like that. You can't expect me to give up my awesomely cool anti-hero identity so easily. Gimme some time to adjust."

Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Whatever," Peter says, shaking his head. "But, hey. If you ever need someone to put in a good word for you with this Colossus guy, just ask." He elbows Eddie.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sure. No problem, just ask."

"Oh, you guys are the best," Wade says, reaching out and wrapping them in an awkward hug.

"**Obviously," **Venom says, in the haughty tone of someone who did in fact believe they were a joy to be around (regardless whether or not it was true).

The timer on the microwave beeps and Peter disentangles himself and walks over to the kitchen to get his food. "Well, I can say one thing," he says, sitting back down. "Out of the two of you, Wade did a much better job today." He glares at Venom. "Seeing as he didn't barrel through a crowd of civilians."

Venom sneers back and makes a vaguely threatening hissing noise.

"I always knew I was the better student," Wade says triumphantly.

Eddie glances at him and raises an eyebrow. " 'Student'?"

"Apprentice, pupil, whatever."

"Yep, gold star," Peter says, grinning.

Wade smiles right back and Eddie rolls his eyes.

* * *

**Whew, that was, what, almost 3,000 words? Damn, I hope you guys don't get used to this, 2,000 words is difficult enough. Thanks for reading!**


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